


Second Degree Burns Help Melt Frozen Hearts

by footprintsonthemoon



Series: barry allen: the adorable teenage speedster [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Teenage!Barry, bruce is a dad, bruce wayne has a heart, daddy bats, daddy!Bats, hal's a little shit, once again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footprintsonthemoon/pseuds/footprintsonthemoon
Summary: How an injured Barry Allen brings up the dad tendencies in Bruce Wayne and actually gets him to show some emotion.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love daddy!bats and Barry whump so this is the mush of the two I came up with at 2 am and four cups of coffee.

Barry Allen had a tendency to actively avoid any medical treatment given to him by the League. Not because he didn’t need it at times (because sometimes he sure did), but because it had formed from habit. He had always stayed away from situations that required him to take off his cowl and therefore revealing his identity and age, and medical treatment just happened to be one of the said situations. So he had gotten used to gritting his teeth to get through the pain as his accelerated healing did its magic. Keeping his mouth shut about broken arms or bullet grazes after missions became second nature to him. That habit followed through even after his identity came to light.

 

Which is how Barry found himself sitting in a meeting in The Hall of Justice with second degree burns up his back and frostbite on his legs, and a couple of bullet grazes on his arm and one bullet hole on his shoulder. It had not been an easy day for The Flash, him and Heatwave and Captain Cold had gotten into a particularly nasty battle. There had also been a rough bank robbery where Barry had gotten shot at in order to save the hostages. It didn’t help that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast (nine pancakes and an entire package of bacon), so his healing wasn’t at its best. He could make through the meeting before wolfing down some food (it was just his luck that his arm compartment was out of calorie bars).

 

“The Watchtower would not be public knowledge; the Hall would serve as our base to civilians.” Batman spoke.

 

Barry tried to focus on him instead of the burning pain he was feeling just about everywhere, but it was hard. He could feel his hands beginning to shake and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the pain.

 

“And how could we get up there?” Hal asked. “Not everyone can fly.”

 

“Zeta.”

 

“We can zeta in space?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Cool,” Hal whispered.

 

Barry was having a hard time keeping his focus, his vision was getting blurry but he was fine, honestly. He could make it through the meeting. Diana was giving him a troubling look.

 

“Are you alright Barry?” She asked, turning everyone’s focus to him.

 

It took him a moment to answer, trying to find the words.

 

“I’m fine Princess.” Barry’s tongue felt oddly heavy in his mouth.

 

“Barry.” Hal said, concern lining his tone.

 

His hands were shaking and shaking and his vision was really blurry and all he could think was that twelve cans of soda would be nice right about now. The last thing he could remember was someone saying his name and a sensation of falling.

 

~~~

 

As he woke up, the first thing Barry noticed was that he was no longer wearing his suit. The familiar snugness of the kevlar infused latex was replaced with the faint softness of cotton. He woke up further to realize he was no longer in pain, only the lingering soreness of past injuries was left. He peeled open his eyes to see he was in one of the medical rooms. And there, looming in the corner, was Batman.

 

Barry swallowed, automatically preparing himself for the lecture that was sure to make him feel stupid and embarrassed and weak. But, to be fair, that’s how Bruce made most people feel. He stepped forward, coming closer to him.

 

“That was idiotic.” Bruce said bluntly.

 

“You’re going to have to be more specific, most things I do are idiotic.”

 

Bruce just stared at him (not that Barry could really tell all that well behind the white slits, but he could imagine). Barry gave way with a little sigh, lowering his gaze.

 

“You had second degree burns on your entire back, frostbite on the back of both of your legs, bullet grazes, and a bullet hole that tore through your shoulder. And with your body trying to focus on healing, your metabolism was working faster than normal. But you weren’t eating, so your blood sugar got down to thirty.” Bruce listed off his injuries, each making Barry feel more and more ashamed.

 

“What I don’t understand, Barry, is why you didn’t tell anyone?”

 

He flitted his gaze back to Bruce, looking like a kicked puppy.

 

“It’s a force of habit, I guess. Back before you knew who I was, I would avoid getting medical treatment because that would force me to remove my mask. You know how I felt about that.”

 

Bruce studied him for a moment before reaching his gloved hands up and slowly tugging down his cowl. Piercing blue eyes stared back at Barry, and Bruce looked… concerned? No, there was something more than that, something Barry couldn’t place.

 

“There’s something more to it, isn’t there?” Bruce asked. “You’re younger than the rest of us, much younger. You’re afraid if we see you hurt, vulnerable like that, we’ll stop treating you like we have been. That you’d be coddled, protected and slightly cut off. You’re afraid you won’t be seen as an equal.”

 

Barry didn’t realize he was clutching the bedsheet until his knuckles were tingling and turning white.

 

“You all would treat me with kid gloves if you were to see me like that, weak. And, well, now you have.” Barry said, sounding almost defeated.

 

Bruce shook his head slightly, a small smile flitting up on his lips.

 

“Barry, we have to take some precautions with you, given your age. But you are one of the most powerful one of us out there, hindering you would be a great injustice. Not to mention hard.”

 

He was taken aback by Bruce’s unusual show of compassion. Bruce showing emotions was about as rare as Barry not being hungry. And Barry was always hungry. _Always_.

 

“You mean it Batsy?” Barry asked, a grin starting to overtake his face involuntarily.

 

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, Allen.”

 

Barry grinned, not able to help himself. Batman had just praised him, called him one of the most powerful member of the Justice League (though he probably had a plan in place to stop him if he ever went rouge because, well, he’s Batman).

 

“You can leave now if you want, but your suit's being repaired right now so you’ll have to stay for a while longer.” He didn’t know it, but this was Bruce Wayne talk for _you are perfectly fine but I still want to keep an eye on you for a little while longer, just in case._

 

Barry nodded his head. Bruce turned around and began to walk out but stopped, as if remembering something. He turned around, a smirk on his face.

 

“This is from Jordan.” He threw something out of his cape at him before swiftly leaving the room.

 

And in sat in Barry’s lap was a bright red Happy Meal.

 


End file.
